


in low waters swims no one

by MasterEyebrow



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Merman Valtteri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-12 03:09:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12950007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterEyebrow/pseuds/MasterEyebrow
Summary: Valtteri is a merman. Nico is a marine biologist. After Valtteri is captured, Nico tries to study him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i dont even particularly like merfolk stuff but here i am for the umpteenth time writing a story about them, bc otp needs that.
> 
> this story is a fuckin chore to write for so many reasons but i rly love it tho, still like... dont be surprised if i dont finish it, ive got so many other fics with plots more established than this lmao so i have better chances finishing them. still, you like bottberg, you like merfolk, you love complicated feelings and my angsty, ridiculous """"love"""" stories, and can ignore the bestiality implications...... go for it bruh, read this shit

Valtteri knows about the nets. You swim in one and that’s it, you’re not coming back. Not in these waters at least. Merfolk who reside near the shores and the humans seem to get along, some even establishing ways of communication. So he’s heard. He’s not a migrating kind himself, he might swim bit further from his usual territory every now and then, but that’s it. It’s doesn’t seem wise, he thinks, and doesn’t know what to make of the tales of his migrating acquaintances.

But now Valtteri’s at the net waters. There’s fish here, lots of it, so it makes sense. It’s stupid, but makes sense. It’s not like he doesn’t see the nets, they’re right there and he’s smart enough to stay away from those. He should be just fine. There’s a boat further away, but the distance seems safe. He’s going to be just fine.

He doesn’t look back, though.

Only after a good moment later does Valtteri realise there’s an ominous shadow sweeping the bottom of the sea floor, and when he turns back he sees another boat, the underside of it vulgarly ripping beneath the surface.

It’s coming closer.

He swims away, but the boat follows, slowly yet steadily. Valtteri goes deeper, changes direction, but it doesn’t help – it’s trailing him, clumsy but much too persistent. He can’t leave the area, as much as he’d like to, the last thing he wants is to lead the boat to waters where merfolk reside. He’s going to have to hide or lose the thing in another way.

Something new breaks the surface with terrifying speed and only just misses Valtteri. Spooked, he swims further and stares the object shot at him – a sharp, long stick with a rope attached to its end, _a harpoon_  he’s heard someone call them. The humans have tried to hurt him with a harpoon.

What he makes of the movement above is that it’s not the only time.

Valtteri swims further away, fearful, and sure enough more of these harpoons are aimed towards him and he escapes them to his relief. The spears go back up once they sink past him, only to break the surface again – it’s not effective, he thinks, they’re too far away to really cause damage – but he comes a halt when he realises he’s been driven to the nets, and the other boat is closing in.

He’s been ambushed.

The harpoons shoot closer to him now, too close for comfort, and Valtteri has to get away – but the only way is through the nets, and they form a dangerous labyrinth just as frightening has the weapons. But the other boat is nearing rapidly, and it leaves Valtteri no choice.

He swims further.

The nets are in many and they’re all close to each other, the smallest passageways between them and it slows Valtteri down, having to take every twist and turn while trying to ditch the pursuers. His tail brushes against the ropes and it causes more movement in the nets, makes his escape even more difficult. Valtteri’s heart races as his panic grows, the boat is almost above him by now and the nets are everywhere –

\- a harpoon is shot right before his face, just barely missing him and he freezes – and then the net closes in on him and he’s trapped.

He tries to get away but finds himself surrounded, becomes more tangled with the net as he turns around and the ropes dig into his skin and scales, and when he looks above he can see the humans moving around, the harpoons sharp and shiny in the sunlight, and he’s unwillingly pulled closer, the net tightening and forcing him closer and closer to the surface.

Valtteri’s caught, no matter how much he trashes around and tries to swim deeper he can’t break free, only makes his situation worse as the he gets more caught up in the net – the surface is right there, too close, and he can make the human’s faces, can hear them speak, he’s terrified and his heart is going to burst out of his chest for beating so fast, so stressed, and the only thing Valtteri can think about is _out_.

His efforts prove completely futile and the net is lifted above, unfriendly cold air so feels so foreign and the sounds have a strange echo he doesn’t like, the sunlight much too harsh compared to what it looks like from beneath. Valtteri tries so hard freeing himself, furiously attempts to tear the ropes but they’re too tough, and then he’s dumped on something hard and solid – the floor of the boat, he realises, and he looks around in fear. The humans are armed and surround him, easily outnumbering him, and he can barely even move anymore.

He falters, and then comes to a complete stop as he gives up.

*

They don’t even free him from the tangled mess of the nets, they just shove him into a dark, small space with barely enough water and shut him there. It’s hard but he managed to get into a position where he can try to lift the cover but it doesn’t budge, something outside keeping it locked tight. For a while Valtteri bangs the walls and the roof of the box, some of his battle spirit rekindled, but it of course amounts to nothing. It doesn’t even stir a reaction.

He turns his attention to the nets. He’s managed to almost free one of his arms, but there’s a hopeless knot around his waist that’s painful and rough against his skin. He can’t see, tries to untangle it but blind groping doesn’t do much help. He even tries to bite through some pieces he can reach and while a few strings give in it’s a difficult and frustrating job and he’s beginning to hurt so he has to drop that plan as well.

It’s completely hopeless.

Valtteri succumbs. There’s no way out of this situation, he doesn’t even know where he is anymore. Even if he gets a shot at an escape he can’t plan it, can he? For now all he can do is accept his fate and try to find little comfort in the rocking of the boat and the sounds of the ocean, almost drowned by the motor of the boat and the humans’ noises.

He screams out his anger. It goes unheard.

*

It’s been ages since Valtteri saw sunlight. He hasn’t eaten, there’s hardly any water in the tank, and the confined space doesn’t allow for much moving and he’s beginning to hurt from keeping still – the net digs into his skin and tail painfully and keeping a hope of salvation is nearly impossible. He’d rather die than go through what awaits him after this.

There’s a sound of another motor and Valtteri supposes there’s a second boat. More humans. Great. More to add to his misery.

Suddenly there’s an awful bang that startles Valtteri and he hits his head on the top of the box – and more keep coming, and some human language that sounds awfully distorted, his ears hurt and the humans on the boat seem suddenly very stressed and disorganised, a lot of yelling and panic. Valtteri grows nervous himself, tries to figure out what’s going on. With all his effort he manages to lift the lid of the box just a little bit and sees that more humans are on the boat – new humans, clad identically, and they’re fighting with the humans that captured him? And it’s difficult to make out what’s going on but it’s over very quickly, the new humans forcing the ones who prisoned him on the floor in surrender.

Valtteri can’t tell if his anticipation is more hope or fear.

The new humans start speaking, precise dictating and confident actions and it sure confuses Valtteri further – these humans know what they’re doing, and while they took care of the first humans Valtteri can’t be sure they won’t be as malevolent. He can just wait. He doesn’t dare to make his presence known, the threat of the unknown silencing any dash of hopefulness that might’ve risen.

From the small crack he’s been observing the situation from Valtteri can see yet another human board the vessel, this one not dressed like the other new ones – he seems greatly concerned and looks around as if he’s searching for something, and Valtteri’s heart stops when the human’s eyes stop on the tank he’s been confined in.

The human takes a determined heading and quickly reaches the tank. Valtteri sinks into himself, suddenly petrified, and he knows it’s not going to do anything, he’s not going to disappear by making himself appear smaller. If anything, the clank the lid made as if fell shut confirmed his presence as well as the sploshing of the water.

The human says something orderly and Valtteri hears how he touches the tank, he’s definitely going to open it and Valtteri wishes from the bottom of his heart this human isn’t going to slice him up because he’s definitely unable to defend himself.

There’s clattering outside, and before he knows it the lid is open and sunlight shines harshly on him, the human staring him with big eyes and Valtteri can’t move, too tense to even think. He might be free. He doesn’t have any idea.

The human says something, sounds utterly heartbroken and reaches to the tangled nets – he has a knife, Valtteri realises and regains his senses, backs down and tries to get as far away as he can. It doesn’t help much, of course, and the human talks to him with soft tones and smiles at him reassuringly and it distracts him for a second and it’s long enough for the human to grab the net and start cutting the ropes and knots.

He’s going to be free, is he?

A great lump of net falls off him and reveals the ugly truth; Valtteri’s skin has deep, nasty gashes thanks to the rough material, and the human gasps, looks mortified. Valtteri blinks, touches the exposed skin, gets blood on his hands.

He’s injured and among humans.

Valtteri looks at the human, intimated. Injured, out of water, still tangled in the net. He can’t do anything. He’s completely at the mercy of the humans, and this one has a knife.

Valtteri shifts in the tank again, manages to scramble to the furthest corner – it’s absolutely no use, of course, the human calmly assumes a place where he can reach the net again and there’s that soft voice again, and Valtteri stares into the human’s eyes. They seem sympathetic, and Valtteri wants to believe this one isn’t a threat, he isn’t acting like one – but he can’t trust him, can he?

The human cuts more of the net, more gashes and cuts revealing themselves – Valtteri’s body is soaking red. He realises he’s shaking, heartbeat so rapid and he’s just _scared_.

The human looks at him, pale and ill-looking, hand covering his mouth. It’s as if he’s sad for Valtteri, and Valtteri isn’t sure how to handle that.

One of the identical humans comes close and says something, gets a reply from the human who resumes to cutting off the nets. Valtteri’s upper body is free now, and he’s only beginning to realise just how much he’s hurting, the open wounds stinging painfully and as the human cuts open the net parts around his tail it only gets worse.

The human says something sharply to the others as he gathers the remains of the net from the tank, shucks them away. Valtteri hates the dryness of his skin, only inflating the gross feeling of the gashes, and can’t really focus on his surroundings anymore – he feels weak, tired. He’s hungry, dehydrated, injured and exhausted, and fighting for his life seems quite impossible at the moment.

The human pours water on him.

Valtteri gasps at the sensation, the fleeting familiarity – the human has begun to fill the tank with water. Valtteri blinks, doesn’t know if where his eyes should be, but the human doesn’t seem to care as he vigorously pours more water into the tank from one container after another. Valtteri’s blood mixes with it, gives it an unsettling hue, but he can’t be too bothered because _it feels so good_ to finally have more water, to rehydrate again.

He’ll have to trust this human, for now, because he’s too weak to fight.

*

They don’t let him back to the sea.

They tow the boat close to shore and then Valtteri has more to be afraid of when the tank he’s soaking in is lifted and the humans start carrying him towards land - _land_  - and it’s not like Valtteri’s never been on land, he’s been washed ashore and swam there as well for a little bit of exploration and relaxing, that’s what everyone does, but it’s one thing to do it alone or with your own kind and another to be taken there by humans. He moves around the tank, tries to get away but he’s badly hurt and the humans, while seem to have some difficulty with him shifting around, still manage to get on land.

He screams.

His distress doesn’t go unnoticed this time.

All the humans look at him, have at least somewhat of a reaction, and the one who cut his nets seems most alerted; he rushes to him, motions them to lower the tank and when he’s put on solid, unmoving land it’s the weirdest feeling ever.

Valtteri’s clutching on the edge of the tank, knuckles white, as the human examines him. The water is close, so close, but there’s boats and ships and gaudy vessels everywhere, human constructs littered across the shore. Those aren’t safe waters. He’s nowhere near safe waters.

The human talks to him, uses that soft tone again, and Valtteri wants to believe this one isn’t a threat but it’s so difficult, and when the tank is lifted again he looks at the sea longingly.

*

After what seems like a lifetime Valtteri’s tank is tipped over and he falls in water – deep, fresh, beautiful water, and for a moment he thinks he’s free now, a rush of adrenaline washing over him as he swims under, away.

He’s not free.

This is a human construct, a contained space – it’s large, almost the size of a small territory, but still man-made, fake and so small. Unwilling to believe this, Valtteri examines the whole thing, worried and hurried, desperate to find an exit. There isn’t one. He’s not free.

He’s not free.

Walls surround him everywhere, sterile and lifeless, and there’s a column in the middle made to resemble a stone pillar that could be found in the sea, with nooks and caves and everything; it’s still fake, much too obviously. The water’s clear, too clear, and when Valtteri looks up he can see the humans, staring him back.

He frowns, and hides in one of the caves, bitter and hopeless.

*

They throw him fish. He’s not eating it.

It’s been to long since he last ate, the hunger almost unbearable. Valtteri’s pride doesn’t let him take the dead fish that is given to him. He’s too furious, too angry, and refuses to please his capturers. He’ll rather die. He’ll sit in this cave until he dies.

*

There’s loads of dead fish in the water, floating obscenely. The humans seem to have taken notice he’s not going to eat any, and they pry the carcasses away.

Valtteri is sick with hunger. It hurts, and he’s so nauseous, but he can’t give in. He gazes up, waits for the humans’ next move.

More fish are dumped in.

Live fish.

Valtteri stares. The herd of fish dissipates, each swimming in their own direction, aimlessly wandering around. He sits still, silent, follows quietly as one gets closer and closer, unaware of the predator lurking beneath.

The fish swims into the same cave Valtteri is in. It doesn’t realise what it has done, more confused of where it is. Valtteri blinks, moves ever so slightly.

He attacks.

The fish doesn’t stand a chance, Valtteri might be weakened and injured but if anything it only motivates him more. He’s hungry, too hungry, and he needs to eat. The fish is already dead when he bites into it, Valtteri’s grip so tight it’s enough to kill alone.

*

He’s been there for days now. He eats reluctantly, never swims to the surface. His wounds don’t seem to heal well. They still hurt a lot, especially the gashes on his tail, and he avoids swimming because of it. It’s very boring. It’s too boring. It’s lonely.

There’s something going on above surface, the humans fussing about, and Valtteri has nothing to do except watch them. It’s painfully mind-numbing, everything here is. He doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that something terrible happens or that absolutely nothing happens.

A human jumps in the water.

Valtteri tenses, watches how the human ungracefully sinks, wears one of those things they need to stay underwater on his face. The human swims deeper, slowly heads to towards Valtteri and he really doesn’t want that, subconsciously shifts further.

It’s the one who cut his nets.

Valtteri frowns, doesn’t know what to do. He can’t tell what this human intends, he seems kind but is in this, is imprisoning him. He’s not trustworthy.

The human swims close, but stops before the cave – he doesn’t seem to try initiate contact, rather just observes, examines Valtteri. Valtteri glares him back, decides that he’ll get vicious if the human comes closer.

He doesn’t. The human backs away, swims back up. Valtteri’s gaze follows as the human clutches on the edge of the pool, probably talks to someone and his legs sway in the water, delicate and strange. The human quickly gets out, and it kind of feels anti-climactic.

*

The endless boredom is driving Valtteri crazy. That’s the only explanation.

It is night, barely any light in the darkness, when Valtteri swims up to the surface for the very first time. It’s a large room, one wall translucent and Valtteri can see the water outside, the serenity and familiarity and it’s so close yet so far and completely unattainable. He’s stuck here.

It’s wrong.

A reflection of light is blocking some of the view, and Valtteri turns to inspect the source. He sees a rectangular opening from where the light pours, gives a peek into a space cluttered with human items and garbage Valtteri mostly doesn’t recognise – and then there’s The Human, one with the sympathetic eyes, sitting there all alone.

The human doesn’t notice him and Valtteri stays above, discreetly swims a little closer. The human seems to be entranced with some white stacks, full of scribbling and unfamiliar symbols. Valtteri comes all the way to the edge of his confinement, stares the human quietly. Even as the human stands up he doesn’t spot Valtteri, instead turns and almost vanishes from Valtteri’s view – and being so bored and curious Valtteri’s not going to lose his only stimuli here, and hoists his upper body on the floor.

It causes a splash.

The human is finally alerted and turns around, surprised to see Valtteri above water. He clumsily puts away his stacks, opens his mouth as if to say something but nothing comes out, much too confused. They’re just staring each other, distance not that great and Valtteri would normally never swim so close to a human on land voluntarily, but these aren’t normal circumstances. He’s probably going to have to endure a lot of things he’d never do if it was up to him.

The human’s suddenly quite stupid-looking and awkward, no drive or confidence in him like before – it’s as if Valtteri caught him in a weak moment, and that thought does give him a bit of a powerful feeling and comfort, at least this he can still manipulate. Still, the human manages to take a step forward, careful, and slowly comes closer to the pool. Valtteri stays at the edge of the pool. The human hasn’t hurt him before – captured, yes, but Valtteri thinks the human doesn’t want him injured, considering all his actions. He keeps still, never breaks eye contact.

The human stops a tail distance away and kneels down, reverence in his posture. He looks like he wants to say something, but it’d be absolutely useless – Valtteri doesn’t understand human languages and he’s quite convinced the human has no clue how to speak like merfolk.

Valtteri scoffs, slides into the pool and swims backwards a bit, and when the human moves just a little bit further he flips his tail and splashes water on the human, wetting him completely. The human makes a short, hysteric sound, stares Valtteri in offense and Valtteri just smiles before diving under, swimming far away to the bottom.

*

He’s hurting.

Valtteri’s wounds haven’t healed at all, some have rather become infected. It hurts to move and he feels weak, ill, and he knows this problem is only getting worse as he can’t even feed himself – he just doesn’t have the energy to catch a fish. It’s not looking good for him.

Valtteri closes his eyes, slumps in the cave he’s habiting. He’s barely awake at this point.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to take care of a merman 101.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can tell where i come to a block when i switch the viewpoint, writing from a merman's perspective is hard af, also valtteri is a bitch but he has the right to be one

The merman is severely ill, and if Nico doesn’t figure out something quickly he’s going to have a severely dead merman in his pool soon. What’s making this more difficult is that the merman has isolated himself in the bottom caves. Merfolk can be quite social and interested in humans, but despite that one successful (but wet) night this particular merman doesn’t want anything to do with them – the stress caused by the forceful capture and injuries must be affecting him. The staff at the marine biology centre has become quite worried and some are talking about letting the poor creature out of his misery, seeing how hard it’s going to be to get this case on its rail.

Nico’s not a quitter.

Using the anaesthetic is risky, seeing how weak the merman is, but if there’s any kick left in that tail it’s going to be noticed in the most painful way if they try to take the merman above surface awake. It’s the only way to get the infections treated, and Nico’s ready to do the whole ordeal himself if he has to.

He gears up, walks to the edge of the pool and dives in. The water’s cold, of course, the same temperature as the sea water this type of merfolk habit. Nico slowly swims down, hopes he’s not going to startle the creature.

He finally reaches the cave and fears the situation might be even worse that he thought – the merman is half-curled on the floor, pale and withered, and his tail is covered with rotten-looking spots. Dull eyes stare him, and Nico only gets a shadow of a reaction once the merman realises he’s there. Nico’s heart is breaking, and he wishes there was a way to communicate with him to make this all easier.

Nico grabs the syringe on his belt, works quickly as he reaches for the merman’s arm and pushes the needle in, empties the anaesthetic into him. Eyes, such intense colour, are on him, hopeless and questioning, but soon they close and Nico’s ready to move on to the hard part of this.

*

It takes three days of medication and treatment for the merman to start showing signs of improvement. He’s feistier, that’s for sure, doesn’t yield to people without a bit of a fight, and the tail looks slightly healthier and the merman doesn’t avoid moving as much as he did earlier. It’s a shame he has to be in the smaller pool, it has barely room for a good spin, but it’d be impossible to treat the merman if he was in the big pool. Plus, this forces the merman to have some kind of human contact since he can’t just hide in the bottom, so perhaps he’ll become a little more trusting. Nico would like to think he’s established some kind of a connection – the merman seems to recognise him immediately, and he feels like he’s under evaluation. The merman has a habit of staring him, harsh and intense, something other people don’t report experiencing with the creature. Usually all human contact is avoided, so the staring contest is the only thing so far the merman engages in – Nico’s gladly working with that.

Once again Nico’s staying in for the night, to keep an eye on the merman and get paperwork and whatnot done – he’s a bit of a workaholic, sure, but he loves his job so who cares? It’s not like anyone gets to work at the marine biology centre, let alone with the merfolk. This particular case is probably the most interesting so far, professionally speaking, so the only way to get Nico out of the building is in a coffin, probably. The only downside of this behaviour Nico’s acknowledging is his eating – it’s been takeaway for weeks now, not the healthiest diet at all. This night is especially lazy, fish and chips from the truck by the centre. Walking any further would’ve been too much, and driving requires effort Nico will rather put in his job.

He’s working on a report as he eats, filling in details of what he’s done with the treatment and how it has worked, and it’s honestly pretty boring but Nico kind of likes it, it gives him a chance to go through everything and rethink possible directions – he enjoys speculating. He wouldn’t be in this field if he didn’t, they don’t really know much about merfolk so there’s plenty to be discovered, and Nico’s got a wonderful opportunity right there in the tank.

The merman seems particularly active tonight. He pops up on the surface frequently, eyeing Nico curiously, and that in turn makes Nico curious. It’s not just short look-outs and back into the water, either – the merman comes right to the edge of the pool and even lifts himself a little bit up on the floor. It’s pretty strange, and Nico wonders if he’s put a bit too much medication in the creature and it’s in a high of some sort.

Nico gets up and walks towards the merman to see what is making it act like this. At first the merman watches Nico, but quickly he turns his attention back to where Nico was working, and that just doesn’t compute with Nico. There’s just his papers, surely that wouldn’t interest the merman because he’s seen this same scenario a dozen times before –

His food. It’s the food. Of course, it’s fatty and salty and high in calories aka high in energy, and naturally the weakened state of the merman combined with how much juice it takes to keep going in the cold temperatures makes Nico’s take-away most tempting for the merman.

Nico takes a look at his food, a look at the merman, and turns around back to his papers to retrieve the box of chips and deep-fried fish. If it takes food to bribe the merman into liking him, then Nico’s going to fatten him up like a storybook witch. The merman is intently staring Nico when he comes closer, a hint of wilderness in his eyes that could make Nico shiver.

“You want this?” Nico says, points at the box. The merman doesn’t understand him, of course, but it reacts to Nico’s words, somewhat disdained. Nico bites his lip, tries to hide his excitement behind a shell of calmness, and sits down an arms distance away from the edge of the pool. The merman doesn’t back away. He’s still, evaluating Nico and eyeing the food, silent as ever. Nico suspects the merman might be too proud to accept this after all, the merfolk are known to initiate human contact but get incredibly difficult if they’re not the ones in control of it.

The merman reaches out.

Tense arms and body wired to quick departure, the merman’s curiosity beats his uncertainty as he touches the battered fish, grimaces at the foreign texture. Nico doesn’t know how he keeps quiet when he feels so victorious. The merman gets a hold of the fish and is startled when the piece breaks off from the rest of it, even more puzzled as the grease comes in contact with his skin and the batter crumbles to pieces.

“It’s good, have a taste”, Nico says giddily, eats one of the chips in demonstration. The merman looks at him like he’s an utter fool. Quite judgemental for something who doesn’t even know what junk food is, Nico thinks.

Despite apparently considering Nico a complete moron, the merman does take a bite into the fish. It’s a delight, honestly, watching how the merman’s reaction goes from questioning to bewildered, and eventually something of acceptance as it eats more.

“Oh, aren’t you wonderful”, Nico laughs softly. “Mythical, beautiful creature eating junk food. They never mentioned this in the myths.”

Again, the merman gives him a dry glare, and yeah, he definitely thinks Nico is an idiot for speaking to him without a common language, but honestly Nico couldn’t care less right now. It seems like he’s finally made an actual breakthrough with this case, and nothing can deflate his mood.

*

Nico’s encounter is met with glee from the other staff – if the merman isn’t isolating himself anymore it might be on the way to mental recovery as well as the more obvious physical progress. It’s still a very long way to go, since the merman still goes to great lengths avoiding other humans and seemingly only tolerates Nico’s existence (especially if there’s junk food present). However, the merman does spend some time on the surface even in the presence of other humans, so that’s a step forward. He’s probably massively bored, seems to pay quite a lot of attention on whatever is going on around him – if this is noticed he does pretend disinterest, albeit lazily.

The tail has some problems healing, especially the fin. The net cut into the thin tissue easily and the left half of it has far too many rips to be comfortable. It appears to be a part of why the merman avoids moving around, it’s just difficult to manoeuvre with half a fin useless. Nico has no idea if they can fix that, and it will definitely prolong the merman’s release back into the sea. As much as Nico sees it unethical to keep the creature captured for a long period of time, he can’t let the merman go back this vulnerable.

Stacks of research and papers are on Nico’s desk as he tries to find similar cases that might provide solutions. It’s not an encouraging experience, what he comes across has often ended in amputation, escape or even death. While it looked quite grim at some point, the merman has recovered quite nicely and the damage of the fin isn’t as extensive as it is in most of the cases Nico wants to believe there’s a chance for full recovery.

Lost in thought, Nico doesn’t even realise the merman is yet again watching him. It’s the continuous tapping sound that he suddenly becomes aware and as Nico turns around he sees the merman by the edge, fingers rhythmically drumming the floor – Nico’s attention receives a sullen response from the merman, a bored frown and louder, faster slaps on the floor before the merman dives under, clearly makes an effort to splash.

Nico sighs, annoyed. He grabs his phone and dials a number of one of his assistants. His call is quickly picked up.

“Yeah, it’s me, you’ve seen the merman acting up right? Could you do something about that, please? Just, get him something to do.”

*

Nico didn’t think through with the whole “something to do” for the merman.

At first the assistant bought a cheap inflatable beach ball, which after much scrutiny the merman seemed to accept in lack of better options and moved on to do whatever he could with it, mostly just hitting and slapping it. It quickly turned out a bit difficult once the ball got out of the pool and out of reach for the merman, and whoever noticed it first had to return it – it happened _a lot_ , and of course, Nico was the one most often playing caddy.

It was decided that the ball needs an upgrade, and an assistant came in with a basketball – it was bouncy and could return if thrown hard enough, it seemed like a great idea, and it was. At first. Then the merman seemed to exclusively focus on hard hits with tail so it flies _far_  and _fast_  and _hard_  and turned the area into a private warzone.

The merman might, _might_ , be somewhat bitter.

What is funny is that Nico absolutely doesn’t care – he’s got hit by the ball more times than he can count and it _hurts_ , but the merman is active and moving and doesn’t seem so shy about his tail and that’s all Nico wanted, and it seems like the merman is on a better mood as well. Whether that has to do with not being so bored or hurting humans, that’s a different matter. It doesn’t really make a difference for Nico, he’s just glad there’s progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scientifically speaking, junkfood makes sense. fishdudes dont. im not a scientist


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valtteri accepts he must make some adjusting if he wants to get what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how to write a merman learning about human life: apply linguistics and child psychology

Valtteri hates the smaller pool. It’s got barely enough room to move around, and it forces him to be much too close to humans. He supposes there’s a reason for it that isn’t malicious. The human that is around almost all the time puts great effort in establishing some kind of a connection despite Valtteri’s cold shoulder, and he’s feeling much better than he was before the move from the big tank. Plus, Valtteri would never admit it, he’s grown quite fond of human food – there’s much more taste than what he’s used to, and it’s delicious.

Still, it’s quite a boring life. He’s got the bouncy sphere, sure, and it provides some amusement – it’s just not very interesting either. Better than nothing, which is why Valtteri’s frustration goes up the roof if the sphere escapes his reach.

It’s night, and most of the humans aren’t there at that time. There’s one exception – the human that has spent most time with Valtteri. Valtteri guesses he’s some kind of a leader among them, that’s what it looks like at least. That human spends many nights at the small space near the pool or just close by the water, often with stacks of human scribblings. This is one of those nights. The human is in the small space, back turned to Valtteri. It’s beyond his understanding how the human can be so entranced with the scribblings so he doesn’t move for such long periods of time, and the rare movement that occurs is him moving those white things from one stack to another. The only way Valtteri would voluntarily just stay in one place would be if it was a warm day and he found a nice rock to enjoy the sun on, but he’s quite convinced this is nothing like sunbathing. The human might just be weird.

Valtteri is holding the sphere, uses it as a float of sort to balance about the surface. He gets little attention from the human, the rare glance and muttering he can’t comprehend, and it’s not exactly very stimulating to put it kindly. Valtteri huffs, irritated. He wouldn’t say he likes it when the human does pay attention to him, but it’s at least more interesting than the other way around, because the human is quite possibly the dullest thing on surface to watch.

Valtteri lets go of the sphere and dives under, spins about a few rounds. There’s an ache he feels when he swims and if he makes too much of a movement with his fin it stings, and Valtteri would just love to go back home and find his own kind and just heal in peace, but the reality is that he has no idea where home is and where he is, and even if he did know he doesn’t think he’d be in shape to go back – it hurts to swim in the confinement, a long distance would be too much.

Valtteri’s tail hits the sphere accidentally, and it flies out of the pool. He pops on surface, sees the sphere rolling on the floor slowly, out of his reach. Great. He looks over to the human, it doesn’t look like he’s seen a thing and Valtteri is quite satisfied with that, and then he swims to the edge of the pool, measuring the distance. The sphere has stopped but it’s so far Valtteri wouldn’t be able to retrieve it without getting out of the pool – a feat that requires too much effort, not to mention he knows how ridiculous and humiliating it is to crawl on the floor, and he really doesn’t want the human to get all fussy about that. He frowns, thinking. More movement might help it come to his reach, so Valtteri splashes some water to the sphere, but it doesn’t have any effect, no matter how many times he tries it. He looks around, tries to figure if there’d be anything by the pool he could grab onto and use as an extension to his arm, but everything’s too far away for him.

Valtteri sighs, sulking. The human hasn’t even noticed his efforts, too focused on his scribblings, and frankly it’s quite offending to Valtteri, he’s been given the idea that he’s the most interesting thing around there but apparently not now, it’s the white stacks, and it’s ridiculous that he’s so offended by this but it’s only because he’s just so goddamn bored at the moment it is driving him insane.

Insane and ridiculous, Valtteri might be just those things, but stupid he is not. He knows the humans have been examining him, and he’s done the same to them to pass time – he’s got a clue of how to attain this particular human’s attention to his dire peril. He just has to swallow his pride, or convince himself this is for the greater good and a necessary evil.

Valtteri swims closer to the human, hoists himself up so he’s on the floor supported by his elbows. He looks at the human decisively, licks his lips as he figures how to go about this. Still, he garners no acknowledgement, which makes his action compulsory.

“Nico”, Valtteri says, a bit too quietly he figures, and does it again louder. “Nico!”

The human is startled, drops his items as he turns to Valtteri in bewilderment. Valtteri takes this as a confirmation for his assumption – the human’s name is Nico. For a human name, it’s quite adequate.

The human – Nico – says something, and Valtteri can’t help but scoff. He still doesn’t understand humans, it’s a quite difficult concept to grasp apparently. Nico walks over, stupefied, gracelessly kneels by the edge. Again, he says something, earns a dry look from Valtteri. This time the human seems to understand the pointlessness, and turns quite thoughtful for a second. There’s a frown on his face, and then a flash of hope as he points at himself, so giddy Valtteri is kind of embarrassed for him.

“Nico”, he says, and then points at Valtteri, which actually throws him a little off guard. It figures the human would want to know Valtteri’s name as well, since Valtteri has figured out his – giving him that knowledge just seems weird. It’s not like he can do any harm with it, it’s just – not a possibility that Valtteri has considered.

Still, his life seems to gain minor improvements every time he engages in significant interaction with the human, so might as well go with it – he really wants the sphere back.

“Valtteri.”

*

You get a long way with introductions, it appears. Not only did he get his sphere back, he got a range of new items, most fascinating of which is the box – _television_ , he’s been told. A stick makes it show humans doing human things, and it gives Valtteri an insight to the surface world he’s never heard of or seen before. You only see so much from the sea or the shore, and apparently the world he wouldn’t see without this television is quite large and versatile. He doesn’t understand much of the talking, but it’s plenty of interesting to watch.

Nico is quite thrilled with all of this.

Valtteri suspects Nico is trying to establish a way of communication, and while Valtteri does consider it kind of humiliating he wants a way to tell the humans to let him the hell out of this pool, so learning a little bit of human language is unavoidable. It’s just that Nico’s now constantly blabbering, and Valtteri still has very little clue of what he’s saying – he’s figured the sphere is called _the ball_ , _hello_  is a greeting, and the bleep noise that people on television make is some kind of an insult. He doesn’t know how to make that noise himself, despite practicing it when no one is around.

Once again it’s a late night, and the only one around is Nico – this time he’s by the pool, on splashing zone even but Valtteri’s waiting for the right moment for that kind of activity. And of course, Nico’s babbling in human language, a seemingly endless rant that’s just so completely pointless, Valtteri doesn’t understand yet Nico is clearly talking to him – this is not communication, Valtteri would like to point out, but quite obviously, can’t. There’s something on television, a bunch of human women dressed up in treasures who bleep a lot, and it’s plenty more interesting than whatever Nico is spewing. It’s just impossible to focus when the human is speaking over the television.

Valtteri looks at Nico in annoyance, only gets a nervous laughter in response and more babbling. The human women are fighting, always interesting to follow that kind of thing, but Nico’s disturbing him too much. There’s so much bleeping going on right now, and then another phrase Valtteri has learned to recognise – something that might be applied here.

Nico keeps talking, and Valtteri splashes, gets him to stop for a second as he finally focuses on Valtteri. Sternly staring him, making sure his annoyance is channelled, Valtteri tries to grasp the way with these words.

“Shut up”, he says, and Nico’s eyes widen.

“…Shut up?” Nico asks in disbelief. Valtteri remains determined.

“You, shut up.”

And yeah, Nico does shut up – but unlike the women on television, he doesn’t seem offended, but rather excited and happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i write valtteri with waaaay more confidence and moxy when he has a tail and limited vocabulary lmao, also if you're familiar with my other work and have paid too much attention you'll know valtteri is watching The Real Housewives of Something


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding a common language and a goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is all my geekery areas suppressed into one coherent mess catering to me and me only
> 
> also like valtteri is bitchy AND smart, what a perfect package

Okay, perhaps the television wasn’t the best way to teach manners to the merman, but it’s doing what Nico wanted – the merman is picking up phrases, and uses them the correct way. “You, shut up” might now be as dramatic or touching as “me Tarzan, you Jane”, but it is the same thing in theory. The merman would probably never accept a more studious method of learning, so this is a good compromise – letting the real housewives of something and other TV shows do the entertainment and teaching, giving some space to the merman and an illusion of a choice.

How to adapt this and make a conversation with the merman, that’s the next step, and Nico’s not quite sure on how that’ll happen.

Merfolk are obviously intelligent, but there’s little data on how they compare to humans – most theories and the little studies they have agree that it is quite even-level, but the environmental factors a major wall between real communication. There’s been plenty of cases throughout history of merfolk speaking some words and sentences in human languages, even reports of conversations, but it’s always been in the natural habitat and initiated by the creature. In captivity, it has mostly ended in resentment and mutism, so Nico really has an interesting case here. So far the merman has shown signs of great comprehension and logic, deducing Nico’s name and communicating enough to tell his being a breakthrough Nico didn’t think would even happen. He’s just got to work with that and keep trying.

Maybe change the channel to something with more appropriate language.

“Bitch.”

The merman is by the edge, peeking over, and Nico looks at him in a confused mixture of dismay and pride.

“No”, Nico scolds him. “That’s not nice.”

“Bitch”, Valtteri repeats, no remorse whatsoever. He obviously knows it’s not a good word, there’s a mischievous glint in his eye and the aforementioned Real Housewives of something are on TV – he probably has picked it up and tries to see what kind of effect it has on people, seeing the strong reactions on the show. Just like a fucking 2-year old.

“No”, Nico says, shakes his head. “That’s a bad word. Don’t call people that.”

“No”, Valtteri throws the word back at Nico, smiles just a little bit and Nico sighs. This merman is a smug little shit.

“You, bitch”, Valtteri says. Nico stares him, knows this is entirely his fault, curses his own work, and buries his face in his hands.

“No, you’re a bitch”, Nico mumbles before he can think it through.

“You’re a bitch.”

Of course. It’s evolving. Nico lifts his gaze, sees a quite perky creature that really seems set on annoying Nico.

“Why do you have to repeat the bad things? You’ve never even said hello.”

“Hello?”

“Yes! Hello.”

“Hello, bitch.”

“No, nonono – fuck-“

“Fuck.”

Nico can only blame himself.

*

After the rough start it has got a little better – mostly because Nico changed the channel and cleaned up his own vocabulary. The merman grasped the cusses quite well already, so that’s a start – they do say that if you want to learn a language, you have to learn the bad words first. Documentaries are hardly as captivating as dramatic reality shows, but Nico’s motivation is the programmes about sea – there’s plenty of them, a familiar subject to Valtteri, and perhaps a gate to a better understanding of merfolk. Nico is hoping the merman would pick up some things that can communicate about his kind.

Valtteri does seem slightly dismayed about this change, to be honest, but accepts his fate and watches TV with Nico. It’s sort of adorable, actually – Valtteri reacts to what he sees, disgust, condescending looks and amusement taking turns on his face, wary curiosity about ships. Nico tries chatting him, only gets glances and the rare mumbles cusses and “shut ups” in response. Apparently this fishing documentary is relatively interesting. Valtteri has probably seen many of the equipment presented on screen, but never in use – only in the bottom of the sea, lost in sand and seaweed. He would be fascinated by these foreign objects, Nico supposes.

Valtteri’s head rests on his arms, tail swishes ever so little at times, and this is exactly what Nico has always wanted – to have a mermaid or a merman trust him so much to relax around him, some kind of bond, and even if the circumstances are terrible, Nico does feel some sense of accomplishment. Valtteri glances at him, quirks his brows into a frown, and Nico realises he’s smiling like an idiot. Great.

Valtteri turns his attention back on the screen. Yet another tool is presented, Nico’s hardly on track anymore, and even less so when Valtteri suddenly tenses, backs away from the TV rapidly. He makes a noise, distressed, movements uncoordinated.

“Valtteri? Are you ok?” Nico asks, concerned. The first thing in his mind is Valtteri’s injuries. “Are you hurt?”

Valtteri looks at Nico, looks at the screen, seems more stressed than he has been in weeks.

“ _Harpoon_ ”, Valtteri manages to utter, keeps retreating stiffly until he hits the wall of the pool. “ _Harpoon_.”

Indeed, there’s a harpoon on the TV, clips of it in use, and it doesn’t take long from Nico to connect the pieces. He scrambles for the remote, turns the TV off quickly.

“It’s gone”, Nico says. “No harpoon.”

Valtteri stares the TV, untrusting, and at that moment he seems smaller and weaker than for a long time, eyes glazed as he presses against the wall, sinks under surface. Nico sits still, helpless and has no clue what to do now.

*

Valtteri rejects the TV after the harpoon incident. Even the Real Housewives can’t get him back. Nico understands, the merman’s trauma is quite forceful, but he’s worried this might set back everything he has worked so hard for. Nico has no choice but to up his conversation efforts. The only positive here is that the merman is slightly more interested in contact, if not very talkative.

“Hey there”, Nico says as Valtteri pops on the surface for the first time since he came to work. “How are you today?”

Valtteri bites his lip, contemplative.

“Hello”, he says ultimately. Ah, one of the days where Nico has a chance – excellent.

“Hello”, Nico replies, a smile playing on his mouth. “Did you sleep well?”

Valtteri doesn’t answer, Nico isn’t entirely sure if Valtteri has figured out the meaning of that sentence yet, or if he just doesn’t feel like talking that much after all.

Nico arranges his things for a bit, collects his equipment and medication as Valtteri watches intently. This part he recognises – Nico’s going to do a check-up.

“Let’s have a look at your tail, shall we?” Nico says, smiles at Valtteri. He gets a pout in response. Valtteri hates this. Resistant, the merman swims to the deep end, goes under.

“Protesting is futile”, Nico mumbles by himself, and strips off his shirt and shoes. “I’ve got a decent pair of lungs, love.”

Wearing nothing but his shorts, Nico pads to the pool, intense pair of green eyes glaring him under surface. Nico stands at the edge for a while hands on his hips, does think it’s a bit childish from the merman to make this as difficult as he does, but what can you do? Dive in, and that’s what Nico does – he takes a deep breath and jumps into the cold water.

Valtteri is curious now – Nico hasn’t actually done the check-ups like this before. He’s usually equipped with goggles and a medical kit, but in all honesty that’s just protocol and he doesn’t need goggles in the salt water and there’s been very little use for the kit lately. The tail heals, it just doesn’t heal the way Nico wants it to, and he has to get a better understanding of that. That’s why he’s doing it like this – the merman trusts him more like this.

Nico swims closer and lets out some air to stay deep, and Valtteri doesn’t try to resist as he usually does – he’s rather stupefied by this new approach. Nico will happily work with that. Still, he must be careful – this is Valtteri’s territory, and as good of a swimmer Nico is he’s no match to a merman. Valtteri’s fin flicks, a bit of a warning sign, but Nico stays to his business. Valtteri’s tail doesn’t have any open wounds anymore, some scarring and a few nastier-looking spots, but other than that it’s pretty good now – externally, that is. It still doesn’t work as it should, and even now Valtteri is wary with his movements, avoidant anything radical – or incapable. At this point, Nico’s suspecting nerve damage.

Nico’s almost at a touching distance when Valtteri suddenly moves away, very rapid and forceful – and he purposefully bumps into Nico, surprising him completely and Nico lets out all of his air accidentally. Valtteri retreats to the other end of the pool and Nico has to go back to surface, gasping for air.

“You little bastard”, Nico curses and wipes his eyes, gets his hair out of his face. Valtteri stares him from the other end, miffed.

“Bastard”, Valtteri repeats, fully aware of the meaning. Nico glares him, actually kind of frustrated.

“I’m just trying to help you, don’t be so difficult”, Nico says. “I’m just trying to get you in shape and back to the ocean, is that too much?”

A spark of recognition lights up in Valtteri’s eyes – it’s too complicated of a sentence for him to fully understand it, but Nico is pretty certain Valtteri knows “ocean”, and more importantly, “back”. Nico snaps out of his irritation, realises his opportunity. It’s just about finding the right words now.

“I’m helping”, Nico says, swims to the nearest wall to support himself. “I’m trying to make you better, understand?”

Valtteri looks at him quizzically, but there’s something in his expression that Nico interprets as comprehension.

“When you’re better, you can go back to the sea”, Nico explains. “I need to look at your tail, so I can help.”

Valtteri is suspicious, obviously, slowly drifts to the opposite wall, but there’s a dash of hopefulness, first time there’s any positive reaction without spite. Valtteri opens his mouth, but says nothing, and looks down, contemplative.

Nico doesn’t know if he should take a chance and swim to Valtteri, but something stops him and he stays still, waiting. The merman seems almost softer, shyer, as if the defences he’s built are coming down. In the end, that’s what the cussing and bitching is about – Valtteri tries to keep Nico at bay, out of his territory.

Valtteri faces Nico. He’s serious, understands his opportunity.

“Ocean?” Valtteri asks, points at himself. Nico nods.

“I help you, and you can go back to ocean.”

“Back to ocean.”

Valtteri stares him, and Nico takes it as a sign. He swims to Valtteri, who doesn’t resist this time, and Nico finally gets a good look at the tail after a long time.

“I’m going to touch you now”, Nico warns Valtteri, who still complies – he’s not happy to do it, but he has a motivation now to go on with the check-up. Nico tries a wound, doesn’t get a reaction from Valtteri other than an odd glance. He proceeds to another one, a more sore-looking one, and this time Valtteri flinches.

“Does it hurt?”

“Hurt?”

“Feel bad. Not nice”, Nico elaborates, and Valtteri seems to get it.

“Hurt.”

“Ok, can you say when it hurts? It helps.”

Nico continues his examination. Valtteri stays silent throughout it, until Nico gets to his fin – then he flinches away before Nico even has the chance to touch him.

“I’ll be careful”, Nico promises, and Valtteri might not really know what he’s saying but Nico still gets to continue. The other side of the fin is fine, but the damaged area has healed badly – the tissue is fine in theory, but it’s not connected, instead several separate slices flow in the water. Nico touches it, as careful as he can, but Valtteri makes a pained sound.

“Hurt!” he yelps, and Nico lets go – it’s all he needs for now.

“Ok, it’s good. Thank you.”

*

Valtteri’s tail has healed to the point where Nico wants to put it to a test. It’s obviously not right – the fin is ripped and Valtteri shies from radical movements, but then again the pool is small, perhaps too small for him to really even try. The only way to see the reality is to let Valtteri back to the bigger pool.

There’s just one thing Nico wants to do before that.

Valtteri is entertaining himself with his favourite hobby – hit the scientist with the basketball – and Nico barely manages to step aside when Valtteri sets his target on him and launches an attack. Thankfully the ball hits the wall and bounces on the floor, gets stuck behind a desk.

“I really wish you’d stop this game”, Nico sighs. Valtteri glares him, obviously dismayed about the ball’s situation.

“I want ball”, Valtteri announces. Lately he’s been more talkative, uses more complex sentences, so Nico is hopeful of the level of understanding.

“Later. I’ve got good news for you.”

Valtteri blinks, confused – probably over why his request was not fulfilled. Nico sits down by the pool, and much to his surprise, Valtteri doesn’t retreat or stay still, staring him – instead, the merman swims closer, next to Nico and props himself up on his elbows on the floor.

“Oh, we’re this close now?” Nico jokes. It flies over Valtteri’s head, of course – he’s figured out the literal meaning, so a question about close proximities sounds quite stupid to him, and perhaps that eye-rolling and condescending look is deserved.

“Your tail is better”, Nico explains. “It’s not completely healed, but we can try to see if you could survive in the ocean.”

Valtteri’s eyes light up when Nico says “ocean”, and for a moment he processes what he’s heard. He looks at Nico, with that flicker of a hope inside, biting his lip.

“I go back now?” he asks – so much effort in the words, so much effort trying to hide his excitement, so much fear of rejection, and Nico feels a little crushed by having to be realistic and not promise all the good things in the world to this creature far from home.

“Not yet. No”, he says, and the dejection on Valtteri’s face makes him feel heavy in the chest. “We have to do some tests. But maybe soon.”

Valtteri’s gaze is downcast, wandering about. It’s not easy to deliver this, and must be even harder to be the one hearing it all. Nico swallows, attempts to brighten the merman’s mood.

“You’re getting moved. To the bigger pool.”

“Bigger pool?”

“The one you were in when you first came here. You can swim more there.”

Still, looking at the floor, obviously disappointed, Valtteri doesn’t answer – but for a second, Nico detects a hint of a smile there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u kno when i first envisioned this fic i was like "yo what if like merman vale would have a crush on scientist nico that'd be a cute story" and then i got to the point of writing this shit and ruined that vision with my violent need for realistic relationship developments


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valtteri gets to do some research on humans, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i want to write some fantasy. with merdudes! whimsical and magical! a beautiful romance!  
> also me: but i will do it in a super-science-y way with logic applied to everything and the merdudes cant have long hair bc it's unpractical also i feel weird about human/merdude romance so i have to reeaaaaaally prove myself this isnt bestiality with like a zillion chapters  
> me: i'm so whimsical and fun

 He’s so close to getting back home. So close – first he goes to the big pool, then home. Nico promised. Well, that’s what Valtteri thinks, there was a few knickknacks and whatevers on the way, but still – home. _Soon_.

It’s a big fuss today, a lot of people going around and about and Nico’s orchestrating the whole thing, telling people what to do and being very bossy. Valtteri keeps underwater most of the time, feels more comfortable under the surface and isolated from the hassle above – he doesn’t quite know what it all is about other than that he’s going to the bigger pool, and he doesn’t think he’d comprehend it even if Nico explained, because frankly, Nico’s quite rubbish at explaining things.

A familiar figure appears by the pool, expectant, and Valtteri swims closer, pops up. Nico’s smiling giddily, looks more excited about this ordeal than Valtteri (not that he’s showing much emotion at all, not with all these humans around).

“Soon”, Nico says, points at the opposite wall. “We’re opening a tunnel there, for you to move.”

Valtteri digests the words for a moment, grasping for their meaning. Seems simple enough. A little difficult and impractical, but with humans, that’s expectable.

“I go there, then ocean?” Valtteri asks. Nico looks at him, almost nervously.

“Maybe.”

Maybe – that’s the part Valtteri doesn’t like here.

Someone calls Nico, and he turns around and talks with some people for a while, very official and knowing, before turning back to Valtteri, smiles reassuringly.

“The tunnel is opening now.”

Valtteri looks back, and there’s a widening gap on the opposite wall, waves forming as the water adjusts to the change, and Valtteri stills, holds his breath. He goes to the big pool, then home. Valtteri turns to Nico, waiting, and Nico nods, ushers him to go, and Valtteri detects some of that same hopefulness he’s experiencing himself in Nico, a twinkle in the eye and body strained in effort to keep in under cover.

Valtteri dives and swims to the tunnel.

It’s almost a claustrophobic feel in the small pipe, Valtteri can move just fine but the walls are close, much closer than he’s used to, and for a moment it feels like the end of the tunnel keeps going further out of his reach – but he bites his teeth, focuses his head and the moment he passes through the dark ring into the clear water, into the space, adrenaline spikes in him and for the first time in ages he can flip his tail with full force, launch off without having to worry about walls. It’s still the same, stupid human construction, but it beats the smaller pool every time, and Valtteri swims around, just swims, unconcerned for a little moment. Big pool, then home.

Valtteri twists his body, turns around and flicks his tail, it hurts a bit but nothing serious – he’s getting a little worn already, nothing to worry about really, he’s just a little uncalibrated after a long time doing nothing. He sees human figures above the surface, unidentifiable, considers of going up there, see if Nico has anything worthwhile to say, but honestly, all that can wait – he’s having a little bit time for himself, and he spins around, goes deeper –

He flinches, pain surging through his tail, and Valtteri’s dazed, vision blurring unexpectedly, and he realises this is not right, there’s something very wrong and the pain doesn’t go away, worsens the more he moves and Valtteri lets out a strained sound, spikes of sharpness harassing his body. He’s not alright, Valtteri thinks. He looks up, sees the blurs of people above and realises he has to go up, Nico has to know, Nico can help.

With a useless tail, striking pain and increasing exhaustion, Valtteri manages to swim up to the surface, grasping on the cave construction in the middle of the pool for support in the final metres, and with his last strength pulls his body on the top of it, above water. He finds Nico, confused and nervous, staring him with all that hopefulness gone.

He’s not going home.

*

“You have a torn muscle”, Nico says. Valtteri looks at him, no idea what that means. Nico stops for a moment, thinking.

“Something has ripped in your tail, like this?” Nico tries to explain, entwines his fingers first and then pulls them apart. “A muscle is broken.”

“Help it”, Valtteri mumbles. Nico smiles softly, looks around his equipment on the slate they’re on.

“It’s ‘help me’. I’ll fix you up, don’t worry”, Nico says. Valtteri isn’t sure if he understands, but supposes Nico knows what he’s doing. He takes a bag, twists it so it makes a crack, shakes it for a bit.

“This is cold, just warning you”, Nico says and presses the bag on the spot that hurts. Valtteri hisses, doesn’t understand the purpose of such stupid thing – what is this icy bag going to do to help him? Valtteri thinks it’s just Nico being mean at time of his distress.

“Why?” he asks, justifiably whiny.

“Makes it hurt less.”

“No.”

“Wait a little longer, ok?” Nico says, and Valtteri swears there’s a bit of frustration there. Rude. Unimpressed, he moves his tail away from the cold package, instantly regretting it as the surge of pain makes him wince. Nico breathes quickly, places the icy bag back on the spot and swallows, as if he’s trying to contain himself.

“This helps”, Nico says shortly. “You shouldn’t move. Makes things worse.”

Valtteri looks at Nico, hoping for a clearer explanation. Nico glances at him, brows furrowed and biting his lip, figuring some common words.

“No moving, okay? It hurts, and hurts more and longer if you move. You have to be careful, okay?”

“No okay”, Valtteri replies sullenly. It feels unfair, after a little taste of freedom he’s already constrained again. He tries to move again, away from the cold, but this time Nico’s got a tight hold of his tail and it doesn’t work out, instead Valtteri almost loses his balance.

“The less moving the sooner you heal, and the sooner you can return to the ocean.”

There’s that promise again that makes Valtteri’s heart skip a beat. It’s such a hopeless situation and he doesn’t even know if he can trust Nico, he was supposed to go home _now_  but now he’s injured badly, and Nico tells him to stay still and accept his weird treatments and Valtteri doesn’t understand how it’s supposed to help him, and he’s so tired and sore and disappointed – it might be it’s an empty promise and Valtteri clings to it because he has nothing else, really.

Valtteri sulks, but allows Nico to do with his treatment.

*

This time Valtteri gets to stay in the bigger pool, albeit he can’t really take advantage of it. Swimming is difficult, and he’s figured that Nico can reach him better when he’s near the surface in case his condition worsens. He ends up spending quite a lot time on the slate above water, watching the humans and examining the items he’s been given to entertain himself with. He can’t do anything physical with the injuries and Nico’s odd development on his tail (it’s supposed to help him heal quicker, but required quite a few prototypes before they found one that fit Valtteri), so no ball this time – preposterous – but he’s got other less demanding activities. Nico did try to bring back the television, but Valtteri refuses to be anywhere near that thing. So what he has instead are _board games_  and _books_. Not waterproof, he discovered.

He doesn’t understand the logic behind the games – they often come with flimsy books with pictures and far too much writing, show some functions of the game but it’s little use for Valtteri when he can’t read the symbols. Trying out the functions does provide some elements of amusement, coming up with new ways to use it even more so, at least until he breaks it. It happens a lot. Nico doesn’t appreciate this usually, and Valtteri is a bit petty so often he’ll break it even more under Nico’s surveillance while maintaining eye contact. Books, they’re something Valtteri can wrap his head around – they have pictures, little writing. Nico explained something about them being for small children, which Valtteri doesn’t entirely appreciate, but it’s something to do even if a bit degrading. Sometimes Nico reads them with him, says out the words written out loud and it has Valtteri picking up quite a heap of new words and phrases.

Once again Nico has joined him on the slate, has brought a stack of new books with him. Valtteri can immediately tell they’re the flimsier kind and would dissolve in water right away. They better be interesting and have fun pictures, or else Nico’s effort to keep them dry have been pointless. Nico seems enthusiastic, even more so than usually.

“I have a book you might like”, Nico says. Valtteri looks at him quizzically. Nico smiles, picks out a book from the middle of the stack, presents it to Valtteri.

“The little mermaid”, Nico says like it’s a massively impressive thing.

Valtteri stares the cover. There’s a mermaid, or a crude human drawing of one. She has impractically long hair flowing about, two shells covering her chest – it’s very stupid. Valtteri isn’t convinced.

“No”, he says. Nico blinks, confused.

“You don’t like it?”

“Is stupid.”

“You don’t know that yet.”

“Stupid. No shells. No hair.”

“What’s wrong with her hair?” Nico laughs, looks at the book. Valtteri sulks, can’t find words that would tell Nico why long hair is impractical. It gets in the way, easily gets stuck, and knots up – merfolk prefer to keep their hair short. Valtteri looks at Nico, Nico’s hair – it’s fairly long, styled for reasons Valtteri assumes are practical and aesthetical. It could work.

Valtteri shifts closer to Nico and reaches out, tousles his hair. He grimaces when he feels some kind of foreign product there, keeping the hair in place, but manages to pull it down on Nico’s face.

“This happen”, Valtteri explains. “Can’t see.”

“Ah, I see”, Nico says. Valtteri breathes out in frustration.

“No! Can’t see!”

“Oh, no, I mean – I understand. I understand what you mean”, Nico replies hurriedly, wipes the hair off his face. It falls back immediately. “I mean, ‘I understand’ and ‘I see’ can be the same thing.”

“The same?”

“Yes, both mean that I understand. I see means both vision”, Nico points at his eyes, “and understanding in your head.”

Valtteri digests this, nodding slowly. Human language has such stupid complexities. Nico smiles softly, manages to tuck his hair in place, and takes back the book.

“Now, do you want to read the stupid book?”

“Yes”, Valtteri says reluctantly. It’s probably going to be a terrible human interpreting of merfolk, but Valtteri is kind of curious to find out what humans really think of his kind. Nico is very open to learn and explore, but Valtteri thinks it’s his job – same with the other humans he meets at this place. He doesn’t know if the humans he’s seen on TV would have same ideas.

Nico opens the book and starts reading.

*

“Stupid! So stupid!” Valtteri comments, unable to fathom the story. Nico doesn’t even seem to appreciate his outburst with the seriousness Valtteri would like to see, as he’s trying to not laugh.

“Why is it stupid now?”

“Legs!” Valtteri answers, frustrated. “I don’t want legs! We don’t like legs.”

“Why not?”

Valtteri looks at Nico menacingly. For someone who is presented as a smart human, Nico is really an idiot.

“Legs are bad”, Valtteri says, tries to find the right words. “Swim bad.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say they’re that bad”, Nico laughs. “You think humans can’t swim well? Do you think I can’t swim well?”

“Yes”, Valtteri says, fuelled by his frustrations. “You are so bad.”

Valtteri emphasizes his point by wiggling his arms exaggeratedly. Nico keeps laughing and stretches out his legs, examining them.

“You really think legs are that hideous?”

“Yes. And – foot. Foot things.”

Nico looks at Valtteri quizzically. “Foot things?”

“Book”, Valtteri asks, reaching for it. Nico hands it over, and Valtteri looks for a picture that would explain – it takes a moment, the pictures are cropped so the feet aren’t shown, but he finds one that suffices.

“Foot things”, he points, and Nico understands, nodding.

“They’re shoes. I wear them when I’m not working, when I’m at home or outside. Can’t wear them when swimming”, Nico explains, wiggling his toes.

“Why are shoes?” Valtteri asks. They’re awfully ugly and look uncomfortable to him, not to mention impractical. Not that humans seem to have the same idea of practicality at all, seeing how Nico struggles to come up with a cohesive explanation that’d make sense to Valtteri. Do humans not feel with their feet? They don’t seem that fragile to need protection, either. It can’t be a balance thing, either, Nico walks perfectly fine (Valtteri supposes) with and without shoes.

“There’s many reasons”, Nico says. “So we don’t step on sharp things or hurt ourselves, sometimes for comfort… or style.”

“Ah, loud people and high shoes!” Valtteri replies, remembering seeing some extremely confusing shoes on television.

“High heels”, Nico corrects him. “They’re very fashionable. Usually worn by women.”

“You don’t have high heels”, Valtteri says and Nico nods, is about to say something but Valtteri is quicker. “You don’t know how wear high heels.”

Nico scoffs in mild offense and confusion. “It’s not about that”, he defends himself. “I’ll explain later. It’s a long, difficult thing.”

“I see”, Valtteri says. Nico looks at him proudly, ridiculously elated once again. He’s a little too impressed with Valtteri learning things, it’s just words in the end.

Feet are still a bit of a mystery to Valtteri – human feet. What for are humans so similar-looking to merfolk in one part and so completely absurd in another? He shifts awkwardly on the slate they’re on, minding his tail, to get a closer look of Nico’s feet. They’re complex things compared to tails, small appendages – toes – in number and a lot of padding and bones.

Nico hums in amusement, allows Valtteri’s examinations. He’s silent for once, and Valtteri admits he’s a little surprised by this, not that he minds – if he has questions he will ask, and Nico will surely blabber on then.

“I might be ticklish”, Nico says. Valtteri looks at him, questioning.

“Ticklish”, he repeats, demanding elaboration. Nico sighs, cocks his head as he realises he has once again brought himself to a point where he has to explain a word he hasn’t even considered necessary.

“Like an itch that happens when someone else touches you.”

Valtteri stares Nico, turns to his feet and grabs one tentatively – he doesn’t know how rough he can be with these.

“Well, that’s not what I meant but I don’t mind, I don’t care much to be tickled now.”

Nico’s skin is warm, rough on the soles of his feet. There’s a few hairs on his toes and Valtteri tries to pluck one, receiving a scolding noise from Nico – feet definitely do have feel in them, and sensitivity. Perhaps shoes are a protective element, then. There are some small scars littered randomly, markings and asymmetries. Nico wiggles his toes and Valtteri frowns at it – the mobility isn’t gross per se, just a little strange, and therefore, gross.

“So do you see why the little mermaid was fascinated with feet?” Nico asks, almost jokingly as his smile is curved lopsidedly, expectant of dismissal and salt – completely right doing so.

“No”, Valtteri says. “Tails are better. More pretty.”

“So humans are just ugly things, are they?” Nico laughs, nudges Valtteri with his shin. Valtteri rolls his eyes.

“Legs are ugly. Some humans are pretty. You are pretty.”

Nico blinks, smiles widely.

“Ah, you’ve never said anything so nice to me! Thank you, love.”

“You are loud, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> giving valtteri limited vocabulary and making him a different species has really amplified his bitchiness lmao


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fishing out information isn't easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i publish this so i have one chapter ready as i write and when i finish writing i publish the previous chapter and guess what. i forgot i had this chapter so yeah here you go after several months lol

Valtteri’s outburst over the Little Mermaid fascinates Nico – this is a unique moment in merfolk study, never before there has been a recorded conversation like this, at least not from a legitimate source (and the stories that claim anything like this are quite different from Valtteri’s reaction). It’s a peek into merfolk society and culture that’s one of a kind. Valtteri is picking up words quickly, and his intelligence is almost frightening as he seems to be fond of destroying things profoundly – it’s not like he doesn’t understand the idea or how to use them, oh no. Valtteri likes to pick those things apart out of sheer curiosity, and more importantly, to watch Nico’s reactions. The research centre must double their budget of board games at this rate.

What Nico is doing now is chatting up Valtteri, trying to find out as much as possible about merfolk society. He’s very picky about what he tells Nico, avoids certain topics and straight-up lies at points – it’s difficult to call him out, Nico doesn’t know the truth and Valtteri doesn’t have the words to explain everything, but Valtteri is definitely a little shit who comes up with flimsy lies that aren’t even supposed to be convincing. He’s just kind of showing off to Nico, that he’s willing to mislead him if necessary – or even just for fun.

“So what’s with the hair? You didn’t like little mermaid’s long hair. You have short hair. Does everyone have hair like yours?” Nico asks, ruffles the short crop on Valtteri’s head.

“Yes”, Valtteri says, lazily tries to escape Nico’s touch – he isn’t really objecting, he just likes to pretend so. “Long hair, gets stuck in nets.”

“I see.” Nico changes his position and stops messing with Valtteri’s hair, and to his surprise Valtteri looks at him a bit dismayed. He didn’t think Valtteri likes touch that much.

“So no flowy accessories whatsoever, then?” Nico continues. Valtteri looks at him quizzically.

“Flowy?”

“Like, uh”, Nico says, realises words are the wrong way to go and opts for movement instead, wiggles his arms a bit. “Like this.”

“Oh”, Valtteri mutters, nodding. “No flowy. Gets stuck.”

“Very practical fashions, then.”

“Yes”, Valtteri says. “Different from humans. You have a lot of everything.”

“So what do you have? Necklaces, bracelets?”

“Book”, Valtteri says, points at the pile next to Nico, referring to the one with clothing words. Nico hands it over, and Valtteri opens it, starts listing and explaining what they have.

“Necklace, yes, bracelets yes, with rock and shells and bone –“, Valtteri turns the page and finds more accessories, points at the pictures. “This too.”

“Scarves?”

“Scarves. Not long. And things on head.”

“Hats?”

“No. Like princess.”

“…Tiaras? Crowns? That sort of thing.”

“Yes! And bags. Lots of bags.”

“Do you find any human stuff that you use?”

“Not me.”

Nico chuckles at the bluntness – it’s not that Valtteri doesn’t have more words to explain his position, he just really doesn’t care for human items and seems quite judgemental, even.

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Don’t need. Don’t find things I want.”

Nico thinks for a moment, watches Valtteri browsing the book. There are certainly items that peak his interest more than others.

“What do you want, then?”

Valtteri glances at Nico, returns his attention to the book and starts flipping the pages, looking for something feverously. Nico didn’t expect such a determined reaction from Valtteri, seeing how perplexed he is over human clothing and accessories. Finally he finds the image he needs, points at it.

“This. Want this.”

*

“What’s with all the sunglasses?” one of the assistants asks Nico the next day, can’t hide her laughter as Nico comes to work with a massive box. Nico himself is pretty amused by this, so he’s not one to get offended.

“I’m bribing the merman”, he admits.

His idea was to give Valtteri a wide selection so he could choose a few he likes.

Valtteri ends up wanting all of them, and Nico can’t quite say no to that. And when Valtteri tries all of them on, Nico _has_ to be there to give his opinion, and has to see all of them, and tell Valtteri which are his favourites. It’s very childish, honestly – but, everyone likes to get childish once in a while, and perhaps this counts as a thing of normalcy that would make Valtteri more at ease and accepting of his situation.

“I look good?” Valtteri asks when he tries a pair he seems quite fond of, smiling and yes, striking a pose – head cocked, chin resting in his hands and elbows supporting him, just so very cute. Probably learnt this from all the reality TV.

“Absolutely adorable”, Nico responds.

“I am adorable”, Valtteri says. Nico snorts, not sure if Valtteri understands the word completely, but it’s not like he’s wrong. “Fucking adorable.”

“Oi, language!” Nico scolds him. Again, a word Valtteri might not completely understand – but he definitely understands how to use it and that it gets a reaction.

“I am not fucking adorable?”

“Oh, you are – just mind the f-word.”

“F-word?”

“Oh, right. Fucking. And fuck. Those are the f-words”, Nico says. Valtteri hasn’t quite got the hang of spelling yet, and there’s still a lot of words unfamiliar to him. Thus, Nico has to cuss to give Valtteri the right idea. They never talked about this in school, but then again Nico is the first one to get so far in merfolk study to encounter this problem – he’s the one who gets to warn everyone about this. This isn’t how he imagined being the leading expert would be like.

“F-word adorable?”

“Oh, sweetie. What I mean is that you – oh, never mind. We’ve been over this so many times you should know by now, you’re just playing dumb to get me cuss again!”

“Nooo”, Valtteri says, smiles mischievously. What a cunning little shit. Nico rolls his eyes, wags his finger.

“And lying too, aren’t you the worst. And here I am spoiling you with gifts. Now, what do we say when someone gives you a lovely gift?”

“Fuck?”

“No!”

“F-word.”

It’s one thing to teach a language to an intelligent creature. It’s another thing to teach a language to an intelligent little shit who loves to play dumb to rile you up.

*

Valtteri’s tail is healing, slow but steady. He seems quite happy to get rid of the support bandages Nico came up with, and is able to swim more normally now. There’s still the hesitation, and the familiar carefulness that Nico deduced to be the cause of the earlier trauma. Valtteri is pleased to be able to move more freely now, though, even if he’s clearly frustrated that he can’t swim the way he should. The wounds are almost completely healed as well, no infections or anything worth mentioning. It seems the nets and the capture caused just such great injuries that even with the visible hindrances gone, Valtteri has some irreversible damage. It means he has to learn to live with those things before he can return, and also to restore his strength after being a recovering patient for so long.

And then there’s the mental trauma.

Nico is on the slate, watching Valtteri swimming in the pool. Valtteri is pushing himself to meet his limits, test out what he can take, and Nico is both delighted and concerned – it’s exactly what Valtteri is supposed to do, but the last time he got carried away was a major setback for him.

“Hey Nico!” his assistant calls him, comes in with a package. “I’ve got your delivery!”

“Oh, great!” Nico says. “Just a second, I’ll get there.”

Nico slips into the water, catches Valtteri’s eye, who swims closer, sticks under the surface but follows Nico as he swims to the edge of the pool to his assistant.

“Thanks a lot”, he says to the assistant as she hands him over the plastic package. She smiles and nods, leaves in a hurry – there’s so many things to do at the beginning of the school year, arrange all the tours for kids and stuff like that.

Nico can tell Valtteri saw the box and recognised it because he pops up, latches onto Nico.

“Oi, this is my lunch, mate”, Nico says, but Valtteri just scoffs, hungrily looking at the package.

“I want some”, Valtteri replies. Nico knows he’ll give in, and rolls his eyes as he opens the cover, reveals the fish and chips – Valtteri’s favourite – and he takes the fork in his hand, completely adamant that he’ll get to eat at least some before Valtteri scavengers his lunch.

Instead of trying to steal Nico’s food, Valtteri flinches, let’s go of Nico and swims further. Nico turns around, sees Valtteri’s stricken face, panicked look in his eyes and he doesn’t understand, what happened? Is Valtteri hurt?

“What’s wrong?” Nico asks, worried. Valtteri doesn’t answer, he just stares Nico, backing away until he hits the slate – he didn’t even seem to realise where he’s going – and then he tries to look for something to hold on to hoist himself up and simultaneously seems to consider diving, just trying to get away.

“Valtteri? Are you hurt?” Nico asks, puts down the fork and is ready to fetch his medical equipment when Valtteri manages to say it.

“ _Trident_ ”.

His voice is a suffocated wail, strangled by terror, and Nico isn’t sure what Valtteri means at first – there aren’t any tridents here – but then it hits him. The _fork_.

“No, no love! It’s not a trident”, Nico says, tries to sound reassuring. “It’s a fork. Meant for eating.”

The difference must not be completely clear to Valtteri yet because that seems to shock him even further, his eyes widening and him freezing completely. Oh, what a terrible connection to make.

“Forks are for food. They are not a weapon, not meant to hurt.”

Nico can’t quite believe Valtteri has never seen a fork before – he’s used them around him prior to this, but he usually eats at his desk or with his fingers if he’s at the pool. So, maybe it’s completely possible? He’s not even sure how Valtteri knows the word, it’s clear that he has encountered tridents before – most likely in a stressing situation – but Nico is certain he hasn’t taught Valtteri that.

“It’s harmless. Plastic, see?” Nico says, takes the fork and twists it so it breaks in two. Valtteri flinches, still quite unconvinced. “Completely harmless”, Nico says, and stabs himself a couple of times with it, to prove his point. “Nothing happens.”

Valtteri still isn’t relaxed, but seems to buy Nico’s explanation now. He’s still by the slate, clings onto it, and Nico puts the fork pieces into the box, closing the cover. He takes the box into one hand, and clumsily swims to the slate – Valtteri backs off just a bit, but doesn’t leave the slate, and Nico places the box on it, opening it again.

“Come on, it’s okay”, Nico assures Valtteri. “Won’t harm you at all.”

Nico doesn’t know whether it’s trust or curiosity or just Valtteri’s stinking love for food that gets him approach Nico, oh so wary, keeping an eye on the box as if it would suddenly attack him. This really makes Nico miserable, these revelations of Valtteri’s fears and traumas that he can’t articulate quite well enough, and Nico can’t do anything about. It’s a total overreaction – the fork is obviously harmless, but the resemblance, even if it’s very distant, is enough to send Valtteri to this frenzy, so his experience must be quite serious and defining.

Valtteri gets next to Nico, disdain and stress wiring his body tense as he keeps staring the box, the fork. Unexpectedly Valtteri slowly reaches out, carefully touches the fork as if to assess the danger.

“Where have you learnt the word trident?” Nico asks. Valtteri glances at him, takes the fork out of the box for closer inspection, still quite distrusting.

“Ocean”, he says, as if that would explain anything. Nico realises Valtteri’s breath is uneven, short, and the look in his eyes is almost glassy, like he’s not completely present.

“Did someone teach you the word?” Nico keeps inquiring. Valtteri places the fork on the slate, at a safe distance from the box.

“Yes”, Valtteri says. “Humans use tridents. Try hurting us.”

“Have you been hunted with a trident?” Nico asks, voice lower. Valtteri seems to stare far away, uncomfortable.

“I’m small”, he replies. Nico blinks, doesn’t understand what Valtteri means. Then Valtteri looks at Nico gravely. “They hunt babies with tridents.”

Nico feels his heart sink at the words. Of course; young mermen and mermaids are often in lower waters, in cavities and nooks, and go see what is around them, even on land – they’re easy targets there. In the black market, there’s this idea that young merfolk are easier to capture and tame, even though evidence shows instinct to escape is so great they will rather harm themselves fatally than go unwillingly or stay in captivity.

And Valtteri has had to face this all as a child, and Nico doesn’t even know what he has seen to make his reaction so strong.

Valtteri’s eyes are downcast, and Nico feels the same sympathy he felt when he first saw Valtteri, captured and wounded and frightened, and this time he can’t do even the little he did before – only his support.

Nico touches Valtteri’s shoulder and it spooks Valtteri, making him flinch, but he doesn’t stray away – and Nico gets closer, his arm around Valtteri, pulling him close. Valtteri leans in, rests his head on Nico’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is also kinda legit Dumb, as is the next one, this is a Dumb Story in general soooooo

**Author's Note:**

> for now it's serious but i'm constantly teetering on the edge of making this a pun fest.... finland, anyone? itsrightthere


End file.
